


deep

by razzrheaa



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Cock Piercing, Deepthroating, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Piercings, Public Sex, Tongue Piercings, Top Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 02:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13894686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/razzrheaa/pseuds/razzrheaa
Summary: They fuck outside. On Keith's bike.





	deep

**Author's Note:**

> Because of this prompt on [doubtfulbones'](https://doubtfulbones.tumblr.com/) tumblr. (go read [their stuff](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtfulbones/works).)
> 
> No beta. I just needed to get it out. Please enjoy.

Keith bites the inside of his lip hard enough to draw blood but even that pain isn't enough to distract him from the sweet hurt of Lance's cock slowly sliding into him. He grips hard at the handlebars of his bike and whines into the still night air.

 

“Shh, someone's gonna hear you,” Lance murmurs and Keith knows without a doubt that the hot flush of the thrill at being caught floods Lance's cheeks and his own.

 

“Whose fucking fault is that?” He spits out, unheated with anger but with arousal. “You're the one-”

 

“ _You're_ the one,” Lance cuts in, “Revving the goddamn engine and pulling all those stunts! I fucking told you!” Lance pants at the nape of his neck, close and warm as he slowly slips inside.

 

And Keith knows. He knows what it does to Lance when he's gunning it and laughing. To be completely honest, he did it on purpose. He just didn't expect this: fucking at the scenic stop at the edge of town, right out in the open public where anyone could roll up and see them.

 

“Keith,” Lance moans, pressing hard and deep and sure. Pressing right. fucking. there-

 

“Lance!” Keith falls forwards onto the seat, his dick trapped between his stomach and the warm leather of his bike seat.

 

“Shh, you're okay,” Lance croons, hands moving to hold onto his hips. Keith feels him shift a little, feels Lance's weight redistribute on the bike to brace and hold all three of them up. It's good that Red’s a sturdy girl. If not they'd all be flat on their sides by now. “I'm gonna move now,” Lance murmurs.

 

Keith nods, dropping his head. There's a brush of a cool breeze at the small of his back, of Lance sitting up straighter and the twitch of his fingers as he squeezes the crease where his thigh and hip meet.

 

The first thrust is shallow and not enough and Keith grinds his toes into the pavement to try and meet Lance's thrust. There's a growl and all the hair on his body stands to attention.

 

“Don't move, just take what I give you,” Lance chides, and it throws Keith off a little, makes the angry part of him rebel.

 

“Fuck, no, Lance-”

 

“Shut up,” Lance cuts him off. “Shut the fuck up,” And this is the first time that this has ever happened, the first time Lance has sounded this aggressive. It strokes down Keith's spine in a wave and he is utterly enraptured by this new feeling unfurling in his chest.

 

Keith whines, unexpectedly, and he can feel Lance pausing mid-thrust. He bends over Keith, seating himself fully again. “Is this okay?” He asks in a more familiar tone and Keith wants to kiss him with how sincere he sounds.

 

So he does.

 

“Yes, please, yes, it's okay, do it, please, La-”

 

Fingers tight in his hair pull him up and around and he opens his eyes wide to meet the sharp blue sapphire of Lance's gaze. Lance's eyes are blazing bright crystals over his red cheeks. He gives Keith a small nod. “You just say the word, and we'll stop, okay?”

 

Keith closes his eyes and swallows. The movement pulling against his taught throat is new and strange and exhilarating. He nods as much as he can against the hold.

 

“Good boy,” Lance says and proceeds to finally get on with it with a punctual shove of Keith's face into the front console.

 

Lance sucks in a breath and let's it out. His hands come down swiftly to hold Keith's waist. “I can't believe you. You already know that I think you're fucking hot on this thing. And then you go and bring me along, all the way out here, like you planned this, getting me riled up, driving me crazy,” Lance trails off his sentence and slowly starts to pull out. Keith squeezes his inner muscles to keep him in in in.

 

Lance grunts. Mumbles a quiet _fuck_.

 

“You're beautiful on this bike, Keith. I don't think you know what you really do to me,” Lance lets his grip slacken and Keith's hair falls around his face like a curtain. His hand slides down his nape, giving a quick squeeze in passing, down his shoulder blades, around the curl of his waist, then back up around to brush across his nipples and hiking his shirt up. Lance flicks at them and it stings.

 

“Ah- fuck! That hurts!”

 

He does it again and Keith shouts. “Quiet,” he commands and runs his palms against the stinging ice of his flicks. “I said be quiet. I know it hurts but this is your punishment,” he says lowly. “Plus, I know you can take it. You'll be good and take everything I give you.”

 

The hands leave his chest and swoop down to his hips and without warning Lance starts fucking him.

 

It's precarious and strained. Keith has to brace on the tips of his toes to keep his balance and it's about all he can do. Lance has more leverage with his feet firmly planted on the ground. He has more strength to push and shove and rut and Keith…

 

All Keith can do is take it, like how Lance said.

 

Like how Lance wants.

 

Keith's blood sings.

 

“Imagine if someone drove up. It's not late and people come up here to hike. What if they saw you, Keith, getting fucked like this? What would you do? You'd like that, wouldn't- ah, fuck, you're getting so tight… Keith, are you getting horny thinking about someone watching? Fuck, yeah, you are. You're fucking choking my cock, Keith, _dios_ , you're getting so tight-”

 

Keith has never rushed so close to the edge this fast before in his very short life. He can't seem to get the right grip, though, to grind back into lance, but he's not a quitter so he squirms and tries to rub against the bike seat but Lance's firm hold stops him.

 

“Ah, ah, ah, no way, José. You ain't coming until I let you. I said you're going to take what I give you or else we're gonna pack up and go home.”

 

The threat of his denied orgasm hovers between them but then Keith settles, whimpering in his throat, going lax.

 

“Good boy, ah fuck, good boy,” and Lance picks up the pace again with fucking him to kingdom come. “Spread your legs wider, Keith. You can rub your dick on your seat,” and Keith knows that Lance knows that that's what he was trying to do not seconds before and that he can absolutely come this way, no problem. But there's a challenge that's issued in-between the lines that keeps Keith from doing it, keeps him in check and skirting that long drop into oblivion.

 

Silently conceding, Keith grips his handlebars hard and lays out completely prone from chest to groin against the seat of his bike and stiffens up his lower half as best he can.

 

“Fuck _,_ ” Lance swears and bites his fingers into Keith's hips. “That's good, fuck- Keith, that's good.” Lance's hands play around the small of his back, his thumbs pressing into the dimples right above the swell of his ass. He grabs both hands full of muscle and slides in deep. They both moan and grunt in turns.

 

“I'm gonna reward you now _,_ ” Lance huffs out and slows his thrusts. Keith keens softly, struggling against himself to not just fucking come on the spot. “You can blow your load whenever you want,” and Lance is giving him permission and all the strings in Keith's limbs wind tight, waiting for it.

 

Lance presses close, presses _fucking_ _deep,_ and Keith can feel it all the way into the tips of his toes and fingers. He lets out a wail not caring in the slightest if anyone is around. Let them come. Let them _see_ how he's getting absolutely wrecked by Lance's hands, his cock-

 

Just by the sound of Lance's smooth dirty voice.

 

“That's it, like that _,_  let me take you to heaven.”

 

And instead of the punishing pace he's expecting, Lance shallowly fucks his hole, keeping close, getting in so goddamn fucking deep that every time he shoves his dick up there, the metal ball at the tip of his cock presses sweetly and surely against his prostate.

 

“Lance, Lance, ah, oh,” he chants over and over. The rubber of his handlebars creak against the leather of his gloves. “God fucking damnit! Lance! Fuck!” And Keith can’t do anything but curse and wail and shake. He’s pulled tight in all the right places, his hamstrings screaming and his spine bowing. His throat is a curved arch when Lance threads his fingers through his black hair and _pulls_ like they were goddamn fucking reins.

 

“Right there! Lance, please, please god- it’s so good, fuck- make- make me come, please, make me come-”

 

“You can come, Keith, you can- come on my cock, be good and come-”

 

“Deeper, Lance, please, I’m almost-”

 

Lance lets go of the hold he has in his hair and quickly braces his hands against Keith’s waist. He’s practically sandwiching Keith between the hot thrall of his body and the smooth worn leather of his seat.

 

“You’re gonna come without a hand on you. We’ll put you on a camera, next time. I’ll film you and show it to you after, show you what you look like when you’re writhing on my dick. You’re so sweet Keith, so sweet for me. Come on, sweetheart, let me feel you come.”

 

And Keith screams, the orgasm ripping from his gut, from his chest, the strained muscles of his limbs, everywhere giving up the ghost to Lance fucking him like a god out in the open air, like he's always dreamed of but never asked.

 

But Lance knew. He knew and pushed all of Keith’s buttons, is _still_ pushing his buttons with his filthy fucking mouth.

 

“Keith, fuck, that’s it,” Lance murmurs into the mess of his hair. “I can still feel you coming, that’s it,” and Lance keeps thrusting shallowly inside of him, rubbing his piercing against the most sensitive part of him.  

 

As Keith slowly floats back to himself he realizes that Lance is still hard as a rock. Keith squeezes his muscles for good measure, pleasuring the both of them in one go. “Lance, come on, it’s okay, keep going.” His throat is absolutely shredded, his words sounding like little stones over rough pavement.

 

Lance stills in his nuzzling, his fingers spasming a little. “You sure?” he whispers and Keith’s face floods with a heat that has nothing to do with arousal but the very sudden feeling of adoration. Keith nods, sparing his voice.

 

Lance sits up and pulls Keith carefully up with him. They perch precariously for a moment on the seat of the bike and Lance slowly slides out. He swings his leg over, holding up the front of his jeans with one hand and extending the other to Keith. Keith leans into him as he wobbles off the bike, legs like jelly and all the blood rushing to his head.

 

As soon as he straightens, Lance’s mouth is on his, biting at his lips, licking his way inside and all Keith can do in his post-coitus haze is to kiss lazily back. The kiss turns heated in the slow way that all kisses do and the small barbell in his tongue clicks a few times against Lance's teeth. The instant that Keith starts to fight back with Lance’s tongue there’s a gentle but firm pressure on his shoulders pushing him down onto his knees.

 

Lance crowds up in front of him and brackets Keith’s body with his thighs. His cock is so hard and red that it looks painful. Lance is right on the verge and it’s only going to take a few sucks to get him off.

 

Lance makes a non-committal sound above him and Keith's eyes jump up but Lance isn't looking at him. He's looking at Keith's bike and the come splattered all over the seat. His fingers swirl through the mess.

 

“Did it excite you that much? You haven't come like this before,” and it's not accusing, just observational. “There's so much of it _._  What a fucking slut,” he says and even though this this is just a scene they're playing out, something hot and shy blooms in his chest and Keith lowers his face. Lance runs fingers through his hair again, soft and soothing. He tilts his head back up and there's a small smile playing across Lance face. “Hey, no. It's only me, sweetheart _._  It's only me.”

 

And it dawns on him, breaking through the fog like the sun, that it has always been Lance, that it'll always _be_ Lance and relief whips through him like a gale.

 

“Yes,” he closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

 

“I want you to finish it,” Lance says, breaking the silence. It's not harsh or abrupt, just suggestive and fond but Keith eagerly complies, lifting his hands up and setting them on Lance's thighs, running them up and down his hips. He nuzzles at his cock, at the tight, heavy hang of his balls, flicks his tongue out and teases.

 

And through it all, Lance's fingers run through his hair.

 

 _He's giving me time,_ Keith thinks, _to come back from myself._

 

God.

 

Heat bursts in his chest and it swallows the coyness. He wants to bring Lance off. He wants to feel him come down his throat. He wants to choke on it and give back the pleasure Lance gave him. With a small nod, Keith starts working.

 

“That's it, sweetheart,” Lance murmurs, widening his stance as far as he can within his jeans and both of his hands in Keith's hair. He knows what Lance wants. They've tried it once before but he never seemed to successfully do it but Keith…

 

Now Keith thinks he can.

 

Here, at the edge of town, with no one watching, Keith is going to deep throat the fuck out of this boy.

 

Hot desire floods through him and his dick stirs against his pelvis. He wants it, oh, how he wants it. He drops fully to his knees and relaxes his shoulders, hands just a precautionary pressure against Lance's thighs.

 

“Look at you,” Lance starts, and where it would normally break his concentration, it just spurs him on. “Are you gonna give me dirty head right here, Keith, out in the open?” Keith moans and opens his mouth, widens his knees to bring his face to the right level of Lance's pelvis. “Fuck _,_ you were made for this,” Lance guides him down. “Made for me,” and like a fucking sappy romantic movie, his words completely line up with as Keith's entire body recalibrates and opens and Lance's hard cock slides all the way home.

 

Keith struggles against him a little, feels the reflex of this throat start to work but he pushes it aside, focuses on breathing and swallowing around the heavy mass in his mouth. He's just relaxed enough after coming that the clamoring panic subsides and he concentrates on Lance's fingers in his hair. It's soothing, grounding. He feels a hot streak slip from the corner of his eye, then another from the opposite side.

 

“ _Dios_ ,” thumbs brush the tears away and Keith doesn't know a lick of Lance's foreign slang but he knows a reverent tone when he hears one. “You look good at anything you do, Keith,” he says and the grip at the crown of his head snakes down to curl towards the nape of his neck. “When I fuck you, when I eat you out, when you're on your bike and laughing with the wind in your hair. All of it. But this, _mami_ , this has got to take the cake,” he licks his lips, rubs the tip of his tongue against the sharp canines of his teeth. “Ready?”

 

Keith closes his eyes and relaxes just a fraction more. He hears Lance curse vehemently.

 

“I love you,” he says and slowly starts to fuck Keith's mouth.

 

Keith realizes the stark difference between giving head and deep throating. Every other time he's blowing Lance there's some semblance of control. He can monitor the speed and suction, the amount of pressure. But like this… like this he's completely at Lance's mercy and he's light-headed from it. Lance starts off slowly, either for Keith's benefit or his own, Keith can't tell, but the pace sets quickly and soon Lance is really fucking his mouth. Like, really. It's all Keith can do to remember to breathe through his nose when he can and swallow the overflowing saliva when he has the chance but-

 

“You're drooling all over my dick _. Fuck_ , you’re pretty like this,” and Keith sends a thankful prayer up to anyone that's listening that he can do this without a problem. Lance sounds so blissed out yet his body so focused to reach its end that Lance is getting a little rougher, a little more demanding of Keith's mouth, that it's all becoming a big mess between them.

 

The two pieces of metal in his mouth brush together on the slide out and catch again on the slide in until all Keith can hear is the rhythmic double clicking on every stroke. It seems that Lance is keeping that pace, not too slow, not too fast, but just right enough that his stem of air is slowly being interrupted at an alarming pace. His hands scramble and squeeze at Lance's hips and the sudden reaction stutters Lance's thrust midway.

 

“I know, baby, I know. Hang on, Keith, we're almost there. You're doing so good. Fuck, you look so good.”

 

Keith hums and struggles within Lance's hold, his fingers turning to claws on Lance's waist, raking down, but he's not going to stop.

 

Lance is brutal now but his erection is so slick that it doesn't matter. He slides home with no resistance and Keith can hardly keep his breath. Spots start to dance in front of his eyes and Keith is as high as a fucking kite.

 

Lance’s voice comes from far away.

 

“Don't pass out, sweetheart _._  I want you to be right here when I shoot down your throat.”

 

Keith groans and digs his fingers in harder. He really can't focus. It's all narrowed down to the feeling of Lance's hot cock rubbing against his tongue, at the hard ridge of his upper palate, pressing good and sure against the bend in his throat.

 

“Get ready, let me give it to you- fucking shit! Keith-!” And Lance grips tight into Keith's hair, shoves his dick in hard and deep. Keith's nose is pressed into Lance's pubic bone and Keith nearly asphyxiates as come floods into his throat, hot and smooth.

 

Lance pulses quick and heavy against his tongue, once, twice, three fucking times and Keith rakes his fingers down the back of Lance's thighs, trying to push him away, trying to get him closer. He lifts his arms again to scratch at Lance's lower back, raking his nails down to leave white tracks that immediately bloom into angry, red welts. He's too caught up with his lack of oxygen and his arms drop to his side.

 

“Oh, fuck, oh Keith,” Lance slips out and falls to his knees in front of Keith and crowds in close. Keith's panting for breath, dizzy and hot in the face and Lance's lips and fingers are a welcome cool bliss to his overheated skin. The sleeve of Lance's shirt swipes across his chin and Lance is kissing him full on the mouth, cradling the back of Keith's head, dipping in low and deep like he could reach in and get all of his flavor out. Keith hums against him still so out of it but manages to kiss him back weakly.

 

“Fuck, Keith, that was good. You did so good,” Lance is holding him to the crook of his shoulder, petting his hair, pressing little pecks to his face and neck. Nuzzling. If Keith we're more of a mind to say it, he would label this as cuddling while sitting up. It's weird and a little uncomfortable but Keith's limbs are like limp noodles and he moulds against Lance like it was nothing.

 

Words are rattling around his head the more oxygen gets pumped through his system. Lance's voice chimes through, clear as a bell.

 

“Did you mean what you said?”

 

Lance stiffens up and the fingers through his hair halt a bit and resume like nothing had happened. “Yes,” Lance sighs.

 

Keith pulls back and really, this shouldn't have been the time nor especially the place but they were always like this, reckless and out of their minds for each other. Keith takes in Lance's disheveled look. His relaxed face, crooked posture and slanted smile and his eyes are so open and bright Keith feels the tight cage around his heart loosen.

 

“I don't think I can drive back,” he says, casting his eyes to their laps. Both of their cocks are still out and Keith wants to laugh.

 

He's met with silence.

 

Until.

 

“You want me to drive Red?”

 

Keith's hands clench tight on Lance's fingers in lieu of an answer. He's never let anyone touch his bike before Lance, ridden in tandem with anyone before Lance, let alone trust anyone enough to drive her. He's slowly coming to the realization that his life will be forevermore delineated by the time 'Before Lance’ and 'After Lance’.

 

“You remember how, right? I haven’t been teaching you for nothing?” Keith makes to stand but his knees are weak. He really is still light headed and flushed. The night air will do him some good.

 

“Yeah, I’ve been practicing,” Lance flips the seat carefully as he says this and pulls out the small packet of wet wipes that are in the compartment. Keith never thought that they’d be used for this.

 

“For my peace of mind, stay around the speed limit,” Keith says and tucks himself back into his jeans. Lance does the same.

 

“Oh, excuse me, Mister I’ll Drive Twenty Over the Speed Limit, Fuck the Police?” Lance hands Keith his helmet and then proceeds to buckle his own on.

 

“You’re only in trouble if you get caught,” he says, hitching his leg over the side.

 

Lance gives him a long and serious look. “Yeah, that’s true,” and Keith knows that that’s not what Lance is agreeing to, not really. Keith gives him a long look back, equally heavy and serious. Before he can say anything, though, Lance shimmies onto the bike in front of Keith and starts the engine. He twists his wrist and revs Red a few times just to be annoying.

 

“Don’t you dare fucking peel out, Lance,” Keith warns through the helmet mic.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart!” He says as he kicks up the stand. Keith tucks his legs up and wraps his arms around Lance’s narrow waist and waits for the inevitable grab of inertia. Lance gases before he shifts gears and the smell of rubber fills Keith’s senses.

 

“Lance, you dick!” he shouts, but he’s laughing and laughing laughing.

 

“Yeah, but you love me, anyways,” he says, racing out of the parking lot.

 

And Jesus Christ if Keith doesn’t think of some poetic shit like riding into the sunset together but it happens anyways and the fond emotions rise up within him like bubbles in a champagne bottle and all it takes is a little more until he bursts.

 

“Yeah,” he says, squeezing tight, “Yeah, I do.”

 


End file.
